


"Take Me Instead"

by Onehelluvapilot



Series: Febuwhump [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur gets his ass handed to him by a woman, Gen, Hurt Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Magic, Non-Graphic Violence, Prisoner of War, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29114418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onehelluvapilot/pseuds/Onehelluvapilot
Summary: Arthur and Merlin get captured by Caerleon's army, who, predictably, want some entertainment from making their prisoners fight
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Febuwhump [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134998
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	"Take Me Instead"

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the lovely writer LiGi, who is also doing febuwhump with Merlin characters! Go check her out!

“No!” Arthur shouted as they tried to drag Merlin away. The prince and his manservant had been captured by a contingent of Caerleon’s army and imprisoned for trespassing, even though they had been well within Camelot’s border. Or rather, they should have been, but that region had been contested for some months. And now, evidently, said army wanted some entertainment from their prisoners in exchange for feeding them, so they were going to be forced to fight. Why did it seem like that was so common? Arthur wondered to himself. 

And now they were going to take Merlin away. Or at least, they were going to try. His arms were bound, but for a man trained to kill since birth, he was plenty deadly anyway. The prince threw himself against the men grabbing his manservant, knocking them both down. Two more men grabbed him and kicked his legs out from under him with sharp blows behind his knees. Someone tried to grab Merlin again. “No! Take me instead.”

“Arthur, no, it’s fine,” the skinny servant protested.

“You wouldn’t last ten seconds in a fighting ring,” Arthur countered. Addressing their captors, he added, “he certainly wouldn’t make for a good show.”

The captain of the unit looked over the two men appraisingly. When they had first been captured, the prince had worried that he would be recognized, at which point one of two things would happen. Either he and Merlin would be set free (unlikely) or killed and their bodies buried or burned beyond all recognition so that Uther could never discover that they’d been kidnapped. Fortunately, he had been mistaken for just a normal knight, since he’d been in his chainmail and cloak when they were captured. Trying to balance biding their time searching for an escape opportunity with the risk that he could be recognized any moment was a dangerous game. Currently, though, Arthur’s path was clear: don’t let his idiot manservant get himself killed trying to sword fight in the meantime. 

“Very well,” the captain agreed, nodding. Arthur let the guards drag him away, though his dignity required that he at least try to yank free of them a little, and was quickly thrown down into a circle drawn in the mud nearer to the center of the camp. His handcuffs were not removed, but he was given a badly-balanced sword. “Let’s see how the knights of Camelot are trained to fight,” the captain taunted Arthur. To his surprise, the older man set aside his own jacket and took up a sword himself off the weapons rack. Arthur resisted the urge to smile; did this man, who was clearly past his prime, really think he could take him on? The prince had the advantage of youth and of size, as the captain was slight of build. Though his hands were still bound, this was going to be easy.

Arthur found himself sprawled on his back in the mud almost before he knew what hit him, gasping for air as the wind had been knocked out of him. Past the ringing in his ears, he could hear the captain laugh.

“Did you forget in your prejudice, my dear knight of Camelot, that Caerleon uses sorcerers in its army?” He taunted. Of course they did. Arthur actually did remember that now, the words of his tutor coming back to him and emphasizing how dangerous and unpredictable that made the kingdom. He groaned. Could this day get any worse? “Get up, sir knight, and fight,” the taunt came again. A sharp-toed boot drove itself into his ribs, and he gasped and outwardly played the part of the weak and easily defeated non-magician, as they would see him, while he planned. When the next kick came, as he’d known it would, Arthur grabbed the foot before it connected with his side and twisted so that the sorcerer was dropped to the ground beside him. He moved to straddle the man for leverage for punching, since his sword had been thrown out of his grasp, but before he could, the mud itself reached up to grab him and hold him back with tiny, wet hands.

“You fight dirty,” the captain said with a laugh as he got to his feet. He was covered in the muck as well. “Quite literally so. And while I admire that in a man, I’m not much of a brawler myself. If that’s what you want, may I suggest Bronwyn.” He gestured, and the biggest, most muscled woman Arthur had ever seen stepped out of the crowd that had been watching. The hands of mud holding the prince down released him, and he quickly staggered to his feet just in time to block the punch to his face with his forearms.

The fight was as dirty as it was muddy, as neither combatant followed the rules of chivalry. Normally Arthur never would have hit a lady, but he quickly decided Bronwyn was nothing of the sort and could give as good as she got. Maybe better than, actually, he was able to admit to himself as the woman eventually beat him into submission and dragged his battered body through the muck and back to where Merlin was tied up, to the sounds of mockery by what felt like, and probably was, every man in the camp.

“Holy hells, what happened to you?” Merlin asked when they were alone again, the prince tied back up with the servant to the stake driven deeply into the ground.

“The man used sorcery,” Arthur replied, choosing to emphasize his initial defeat over the fact that he had been beaten by a woman. He couldn’t have his ego any more bruised by his manservant’s taunting, since his entire body already felt black and blue. A different woman, this one of a more typical size and musculature for a girl, brought them some stew, which to his deep embarrassment he had to let Merlin help him eat, as he could barely move his badly strained shoulders. “You aren’t allowed to say anything about this to absolutely anyone,” the prince threatened. Unfortunately, even under the best of circumstances Merlin wasn’t scared of him, and that probably went double now that he was incapacitated.

“Sure,” he huffed, predictably. “As soon as we get back to Camelot I will keep this little secret buckled securely away and not tell anyone. Least of all Leon, Gwen, and Morgana.”

Arthur groaned as he imagined it. Leon and Gwen might be polite and let him forget it, but Morgana never would. An even darker thought hit him then. “Merlin, I’m not so sure we will be getting back to Camelot…” The ferocity with which the captain had allowed Bronwyn to beat him was not a good sign about the condition he liked to keep his prisoners in, and his injuries were going to make escape much harder. Besides, if they demanded that one of them fight again, Arthur wouldn’t have the strength to keep Merlin from sacrificing himself for his prince, and there was no way he would survive that kind of fight against either a magician or a brawler.

“Nonsense, there’s no way a little patch of trouble like this is going to get us down,” the servant retorted enthusiastically. “If they make us fight again, I’ll take your spot like you should have let me do today, and take them all down myself and we can escape.” Arthur didn’t have it in him to call out Merlin on his fantasy, so he just closed his eyes and sighed. The skinnier man helped him lie down as comfortably as possible on the hard ground, and, surprisingly, kept his hand laid gently on his shoulder. “Just watch and don’t worry, Arthur. Everything will turn out alright, you’ll see.” His optimism was infectious, as so many things about him were, and surprisingly, the prince found himself comforted enough to drift off into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated


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